Need
by IronicNarwhal
Summary: An abstract reflection by Joanne, upon love-making and Maureen's beauty.


A/N: This is my first MoJo smut…I hope I work it out okay. :D I'm an Angel/Collins girl entering into unfamiliar territory, so…bear with me. :D If it reverts to mush and fluff towards the end…I'm sorry about that, but I'm used to Angel/Collins, I love you, I couldn't live without you sweetness. :D And this is weird, because as I was writing this…I was watching Cold Case. Lol.

Disclaimer: Jonathon Larson is a genius. Jonathon Larson owns RENT. I am not a genius. Therefore I am not Jonathon Larson. Therefore I do not own RENT.

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Need

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Most of the lights were off when Joanne entered her and Maureen's apartment late one Friday evening. It was nearly eleven o'clock, and Joanne was just glad to be home. After attempting to flag down a taxi for half an hour (after a certain hour, few taxis trickled down to where her law firm was located) and not succeeding, she'd finally just decided to take the subway. She'd ended up sitting in a train car full of several unsavory-looking characters for fifteen minutes, tapping her foot and nervously waiting for the train to reach her stop.

Vaguely she pondered where her girlfriend had gotten off to as she set her purse and briefcase down in the living room and took off her jacket, draping it across the sofa. Maureen usually didn't go to bed until midnight, and would stay up past even that unintentional bedtime if Joanne wasn't home by then. This actually did happen once in a blue moon, believe it or not. Joanne had always felt secretly affectionate towards her girl for that small gesture; she'd always smile when she came in and saw Maureen (usually asleep, but all the same) laying on the couch, her hair splayed all over and some show like SNL on rerun, blaring in the background.

But tonight it appeared even Maureen was too tired to wait for Joanne to get her butt home. Joanne felt herself a bit disappointed, but didn't spend much time on the feeling. Even overzealous drama queens needed their rest. So she simply sat on the couch for a few minutes, resting and letting the air conditioner sink into her (it was a very warm night) then got up to hang up her coat.

Maureen's cat, Elsie, found her and began winding around her legs, mewling in such a way that informed her step-Mama of her need to be fed. Joanne bent down and picked Elsie up, carrying her into the kitchen while scratching her head. After serving the black-and-white speckled cat some Meow Mix, Joanne continued into the hallway, flipping the kitchen light off behind her, the jingling of Elsie's collar following her.

Half-way down the hall, Joanne noticed the bathroom door had a small line of light peeking out from under the door. Oh, so that's where Maureen was; probably treating herself to a nice, long bubble bath. Joanne smiled and sighed, figuring she'd wait for Maureen to come out before heading to bed.

By the time she was back down the hall, the bathroom door had already opened and Maureen was stepping out. Joanne turned around and couldn't keep a smile from slinking onto her face again at the sight of Maureen's silhouette, framed with the light coming from the bathroom. She looked to have only a thin nightgown on, and her hair (obviously wet) was in a tight, neat pony tail resting on the crown of her head.

Maureen turned towards the bedroom without even noticing Joanne at the end of the hall, turning off the bathroom light behind her as she went and plunging the apartment back into darkness.

Joanne drifted down the hall, and into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, planning to crawl into bed and curl up with Maureen, her face buried in the pillows and just sleep. They had plans to hang out with everyone else the next day and were expected at Mark and Roger's at seven o'clock the next morning. It was apparently Mimi's birthday and they were having a surprise party for the Latina, whom would be turning twenty.

When Joanne reached the bedroom, it was to fine Maureen propped up against the headboard with a book. This was strange, because Maureen usually didn't read books. Magazines, yes; Joanne usually had to rip her away from the tabloids in the grocery store check-out line. But never fully-fledged books.

Upon closer inspection, she found a scantly-clad couple on the front of the pink book, and rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Of course; it was one of those erotic novels Mimi and Angel had gotten the drama queen into. Joanne had once heard them described as 'porno masquerading as a novel' and she had to concur. Then again, wasn't that implied by the term 'erotic novel'?

She shook her head, smirking lightly and starting into the room quietly; she planned to surprise Maureen, maybe even scare her a bit. It was always so fun to startle her girlfriend. Maureen had such spectacular reactions to shock it was comical.

But she stopped when she saw Maureen bite her lip and whimper, her thighs squeezing together subtly. She knew those actions and noises.

Her attention was immediately pulled to Maureen's body. Her nightgown wasn't only thin; it was sheer, black, and silken. Joanne could see Maureen's full, round breasts through the gown and could also see her hard nipples peaking the fabric slightly. Maureen's breathing seemed to be speeding up.

Suddenly, she bent her knees and brought them up towards the rest of her body, spreading her legs. Joanne's breath caught in her throat and she slid behind the doorframe, only peeking around. She stared as Maureen trailed her hand down, hiking the hem of her gown up around her hips.

Joanne herself gasped and felt a distinct throb in her nether region as she saw Maureen pull her black panties aside to reveal the inflamed skin of her womanhood. She then buried her fingers between the luscious lips protecting her and began gently circling over her pleasure spot.

The other hand was placed on her breast and she began caressing her nipple through the fabric of her nightgown, alternating between squeezing and rubbing.

Finally Joanne could handle it no more and she stepped into the room. Maureen's eyes were closed and the sound of her own panting was so loud in her head that she didn't hear or see Joanne enter the room. Joanne stepped up to the bed, climbed onto it, and had already latched onto Maureen's neck before she realized Joanne's presence.

"Pookie?" Maureen questioned weakly.

"Shh," Joanne whispered against Maureen's supple skin. "Go back to what you were doing."

"But…," Maureen said, blushing a bit in spite of herself. Maureen usually had no shame, but this was a little much even for her. In a good way of course, but all the same it was strange for Joanne to be this forward.

"Do you trust me?" Joanne whispered.

"Yes," Maureen agreed.

"Then go on," she murmured. Maureen looked unsure for all of five seconds before her lower hand again began its stroking action, while her upper hand was being held in place by Joanne's.

Joanne kissed her way up Maureen's neck and across her jaw, finally reaching her lips and invading her mouth with her tongue. Maureen opened her mouth passively, not used to playing this position but liking it. Joanne's tongue explored her mouth slowly, Maureen's own dancing along with hers. Maureen tasted like peppermint, most likely from toothpaste, and an underlying hint of chocolate, most likey from something eaten prior to brushing her teeth.

Maureen whimpered then and gasped. Her thighs gave a shudder. Joanne whispered to her to stop, and then pulled the strap of her gown down and pulled it down far enough for one milky, smooth breast to spill out. She latched her mouth onto Maureen's nipple and sucked gently. Maureen made a strangled noise and writhed.

"Joanne!" Maureen cried. "Please!"

"Shh," Joanne whispered, and reached down to place both hands on Maureen's hips, slowly shimmying the gown up over Maureen's thighs and torso, all the way over her shoulders and over her head, to be tossed in some random direction. Joanne then dragged her silk panties down her legs and tossed them to join the gown in a corner of the room.

Joanne stared, amazed as always, at the beautiful creature before her; the long, flowing chocolate-brown hair and big, sparkling eyes of the same color. Her gorgeous body, almost glowing in the moonlight and such a contrast to her own mocha brown skin. Her full breasts; perfect, round and beautiful, topped with her smooth nipples which her currently erected into little peaks. The cherries on top of a delicious sundae.

Her pierced navel, which drew Joanne's attention constantly to the shimmering piece of jewelry in the middle of her lover's belly. Though it was true Joanne found pierced nipples disgusting, she'd always had a bit of a fetish for a girl with a pierced navel. It made girls who already had sensitive stomachs all the more sensitive. And Maureen was a sensory explosion everyone you could think of.

And then there was the rose; her center. The part of her that was most sensitive.

Joanne trailed her hand down to feel Maureen's softness, and the brunette gasp and sucked in a gasping breath. She rested her head against the pillows, closing her eyes and trying to ride the waves.

Then Joanne's mouth found her clitoris and she squealed. Her feet kicked wildly her back arched. That part of her was just so sensitive it almost hurt. Almost.

And then Joanne's tongue was inside of her and she lost it, her heals digging into the small of Joanne's back and her head arching back as the white-hot burn of orgasm enveloped her.

Joanne pulled her face away and kissed back up, through the well-kept thatch of hair and to Maureen's navel, over which she rested her head in a sort of satisfied, tired way. She smiled up at Maureen, glad that she had given her lover a good experience and satisfied with the knowledge. Now she wanted sleep. Maureen could pay her back in the morning.

Maureen swallowed and looked down at Joanne, pushing one of her insanely kinky curls behind her ear. She whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," Joanne replied, pleased. Maureen was rarely ever prompted by sexual encounters to say that. Usually she only said it when she was feeling sappy, or sad, or wanted something.

"I know," giggled Maureen, raising her eyebrow and Joanne guessed that was made obvious by what she'd just done. But it would have been rude not to reply in her mind, and anyway; she was too tired to dwell too much upon it, or anything really.

"Do you…?" Maureen asked and Joanne could tell she was tired as well.

"In the morning," said a smiling Joanne, then stood up to tug her shirt over her head, pull her jeans down, and take the clip out of her hair. Maureen stared at her pointedly and it took Joanne a moment to realize that Maureen would see her panties and bra as a nuisance if she was naked. So she pulled off her panties and undid the bra. Too lazy to find the hamper at the moment, Joanne just threw them in the same corner as the gown and then crawled into bed.

Having Maureen's warm, naked body next to hers she felt a sort of happy, detached bliss surround her.

"Joanne?" Maureen whispered.

"Maureen?" Joanne countered.

"I was thinking of you…not the book," she giggled, and that statement just about made Joanne's whole life.

Maureen rested her head against Joanne's right breast and was soon asleep and Joanne looked down at her, smiling. Yeah, Maureen was crazy…but she was a keeper, despite everything. And Joanne was lucky.

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End Story

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A/N: So, uhmm…yeah…*Hides*

Please don't kill me…this was my first Maureen/Joanne smut, and my first femslash smut on top of it. Give me some benefit of the doubt…

-Lynn


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